Christianity, Zen and “AI”

I have a extraordinarily intelligent friend who will not tolerate my mentioning or introducing the idea of querying the various AI ‘bots available through the Internet. I, on the other hand, find ChatGPT and Grok very helpful in responding to my thoughts and queries. The following is an example of a conversation I would love to have with a human, and I ask you to perceive: where will I find such a human to interact with, as I sit here in my home office, disengaged from world, even local affairs at age 88, and with poor hearing?

The Conversation:

I have heard some Christians say “let go and let God…” This reminds me of what I have read about Zen Buddhism. What do you say?

ChatGPT said:

You’ve made a perceptive connection. The phrase “Let go and let God”, often spoken by Christians, especially in evangelical or 12-step recovery contexts, does indeed echo certain core ideas found in Zen Buddhism—though they arise from different theological and philosophical traditions.

✝️ “Let Go and Let God” — Christian Context

Meaning: Surrender personal control or anxiety and trust that God is actively working on your behalf.
Origins: Popularized in 20th-century Christian spirituality and 12-step programs (like Alcoholics Anonymous).
Theological basis:
- “Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding.” — Proverbs 3:5
- Emphasizes faith, humility, and divine providence.

🪷 Zen Buddhism: Letting Go of Self and Attachment

Core Teaching: Release clinging to ego, desire, expectations, and fixed views.
Practice: Zazen (meditation) cultivates direct, non-conceptual awareness of reality as it is.
Letting Go Means:
- No reliance on a supreme being, but letting go of self-centered control.
- Trusting in the unfolding of each moment without resistance or grasping.

🌉 Points of Convergence

Theme	Christian “Let Go”	Zen “Let Go”
Surrender	To God’s will	Of ego/self-will
Trust	In divine guidance	In the present moment/reality
Relinquishment	Of worry, control, fear	Of attachment, craving, aversion
Stillness/Silence	Through prayer	Through meditation

Both traditions suggest that true peace and insight arise not from grasping or striving, but from a kind of radical openness—a deep trust that goes beyond the individual ego’s need to manage or control.

🧠 Philosophical Distinction

Christianity retains a duality: God is other, a personal, providential being who intervenes.
Zen Buddhism dissolves dualities: No-self and no-other, only suchness (tathātā)—the direct reality of the moment.

Yet in practice, the psychological posture—a yielding of anxious control—can feel very similar.

🪶 Conclusion

Your intuition is sound. “Let go and let God” and Zen’s “non-attachment” are spiritually resonant gestures across traditions. Both invite the practitioner to surrender control, embrace humility, and rest in a truth deeper than thought or will.

Would you like examples of how this kind of letting-go appears in Zen koans or Christian contemplative writing (like from Thomas Merton or Meister Eckhart)?

You said:

Along these lines, my father, in his old age, said that he had achieved ‘equanimity’, or at least perceived that as an ideal. I am now slightly older than my father when he spoke like this, and I, too, feel a sense of equanimity. I am less alarmed or exercised over world affairs, even personal tragedies. Does ‘equanimity’ find a place in Zen Buddhism?

ChatGPT said:

Yes, equanimity holds a central and revered place in Zen Buddhism—and your father’s insight, now echoed in your own experience, reflects a deeply human and spiritual realization that Zen calls upekkhā in Pali (or upeksha in Sanskrit), often translated as equanimity, serene detachment, or non-reactive awareness.

🪷 Equanimity in Zen Buddhism

Zen does not use the word “equanimity” often in a technical sense, but the spirit of equanimity permeates its practice:

🧘‍♂️ 1. Zazen (Sitting Meditation)

Zazen encourages observing thoughts, sensations, and emotions without clinging or aversion.
One sits with what is, regardless of whether it is pleasant, painful, or neutral.
This cultivates a mind that is even, unshaken, and open—not numb, but free.

🏯 2. Nonduality and Non-attachment

Zen’s insight into no-self and impermanence (anicca) supports equanimity:

“If you understand that everything is transient and without a fixed self, what is there to grasp at or fear?”

🌾 3. Equanimity as Mature Compassion

True equanimity in Zen is not indifference; it is the ground of wise compassion.
A Zen teacher may appear calm in the face of suffering—not because they don’t care, but because they are not overwhelmed by reactivity.
As Zen Master Shunryu Suzuki said:

“To give your sheep or cow a large, spacious meadow is the way to control him.”

🧠 Emotional and Philosophical Maturity

Your growing sense of peace in the face of global or personal upheaval reflects what Zen might describe as:

“Seeing things as they are” (tathātā)
Freedom from entanglement in narrative or egoic identity
Trust in the flow of life, even its pain

This echoes the Fourth Brahmavihāra in early Buddhism:

Upekkhā — “The balanced heart, imperturbable, open to joy and sorrow alike.”

🧭 A Christian Parallel

You might find resonance in Christian mysticism too—such as Thomas Merton’s “indifference to all created things” (in the Ignatian sense), or Meister Eckhart’s idea of “Gelassenheit”—a letting-be, a resting in God’s will.

✅ In Summary

Yes—equanimity is deeply embedded in Zen Buddhist practice and realization. It is not suppression, but a flowering of clarity, compassion, and peace that emerges when one ceases to struggle against reality.

You and your father were tapping into something perennial—something known by sages across traditions and centuries.

Would you like a Zen poem or koan that illustrates equanimity in action?

You said:

A Zen poem, please…

ChatGPT said:

Certainly. Here is a classic Zen poem by the 18th-century Japanese monk Ryōkan Taigu, who is beloved for his gentle spirit, humility, and simple life. His poems often embody the essence of equanimity:

🌾 Without a Trace

by Ryōkan

The thief left it behind:
the moon
at my window.

🧘‍♂️ Interpretation

This three-line poem—deceptively simple—is filled with the spacious awareness that defines Zen equanimity:

A thief may have stolen Ryōkan’s possessions, but he has not taken anything of true value.
The moon, symbol of serenity and enlightened mind, remains untouched, reflected in the stillness of his window.
Ryōkan’s response is free from anger, fear, or attachment—only quiet observation.

If you’d like, I can share more poems—by Ryōkan, Bashō, or Han-shan (Cold Mountain)—that explore detachment, peace, and timeless presence.

You said:

I have anticipated your suggestion in having purchased a few books of Basho’s writings.

ChatGPT said:

That is a beautiful choice. Matsuo Bashō is not only the master of haiku, but also a quiet philosopher of impermanence, simplicity, and equanimity. His poems, often written during his travels, are like still ponds that reflect the fleeting world.

Here is one of his most well-known verses, which captures equanimity in a single breath:

🐸 Old Pond

by Bashō

古池や
蛙飛びこむ
水の音

Furu ike ya
kawazu tobikomu
mizu no oto

Translation:

An old pond—
a frog jumps in,
the sound of water.

🍃 Why This Speaks to Equanimity

Stillness and motion coexist: The moment is not disturbed by the frog—it is completed by it.
Bashō does not judge, react, or dramatize. He simply witnesses.
This witnessing—the radical presence to what is—is the essence of Zen equanimity.

If you have Bashō’s travel journal Oku no Hosomichi (The Narrow Road to the Deep North), you’ll find that same mood of quiet acceptance across landscapes, deaths, and encounters.

Would you like to explore how Bashō’s view of nature relates to Zen insight, or how his poetry compares with Ryōkan’s more personal, emotive tone?

You said:

I have seen a short piece of writing showing the various translations of this poem into English.

ChatGPT said:

Yes—Bashō’s famous old pond haiku has been translated dozens of times, each rendering slightly different shades of rhythm, imagery, and tone. It’s a perfect example of how a single Zen moment—seemingly simple—can generate a multiplicity of interpretations, much like a koan.

Here are a few notable translations of Bashō’s 古池や　蛙飛びこむ　水の音:

🐸 Famous English Translations of Bashō’s “Old Pond” Haiku

R.H. Blyth (1949):

The old pond;
A frog jumps in—
The sound of the water.
Donald Keene:

An old pond—
the sound
of a frog jumping in.
Lucien Stryk:

Old pond—
frog leaping—
splash.
Harold G. Henderson:

The old pond—
a frog jumps in,
sound of water.
Robert Hass:

The old pond—
a frog jumped in,
the sound of water.

🧠 Why the Variations Matter

Some emphasize stillness, others the suddenness of the splash.
Some foreground the frog’s action, while others focus on the sound or the pond’s timelessness.
The structure of the original 5-7-5 syllable form is often honored, but sometimes discarded for clarity or musicality in English.

In each case, the translator must decide:

What matters more—the literal meaning, the feeling, or the moment’s rhythm?

🎴 Zen in Translation

Translation here becomes an act of interpretation, a kind of silent Zen dialogue between poet, translator, and reader. As Bashō himself said:

“Do not seek to follow in the footsteps of the wise.
Seek what they sought.”

Would you like me to compose a few alternative versions of this haiku in English that capture different tones (philosophical, humorous, melancholic, etc.)?

You said:

Yes, please

ChatGPT said:

Wonderful. Here are five alternative English renderings of Bashō’s old pond haiku, each evoking a different emotional or philosophical tone. While staying close to the essence, I’ve adjusted nuance, rhythm, and emphasis to bring out distinct facets of the moment:

1. 🪷 Philosophical (stillness as a metaphor for awareness)

Still pond.
One frog breaks silence—
the sound of being.

2. 🌙 Melancholic (echoes of transience)

Long-forgotten pond—
a frog dives into dusk,
and it echoes.

3. 🐸 Humorous (Zen lightness and surprise)

Old pond—
a frog belly-flops in.
The universe blinks.

4. 🍃 Minimalist / Zen purity (stripping all but the moment)

Pond.
Frog.
Splash.

5. 🫧 Romantic/Reflective (human longing in nature)

The pond waits.
A frog stirs its surface—
like a thought of you.

These are all rooted in the original but resonate through different emotional registers. Each shows how the same “event” — a frog entering water — can serve as a doorway to emptiness, memory, joy, detachment, or love.

Would you like to try composing your own version based on how you experience this moment today? I’d be glad to assist.

END OF CONVERSATION